


Letters to Batman

by N3333ka



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Idk what I’m doing, bruce needs to sort his shit, give your children more love you coward, kill the joker you damned coward, this is angst ???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-07 00:10:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N3333ka/pseuds/N3333ka
Summary: Characters from the DCU (mostly the batfam) are writing to Batman because talking face to face can be hard.





	1. You're Dangerous

Dear, Bruce.

You’re dangerous. 

Not in the way you move, not in the way you fight. But in the way you are. The way you make somebody want to die for you. 

They’ll look you in the eye and say “I'll never let you down” then you’ll watch them get struck by a bullet. 

They’ll work so hard to please a monster like you, unknowingly realising that it will bring their untimely death. They are treated like soldiers in war, believing that to die a martyr’s death is to die honourably. They think they will be worshipped by you for years to come, in reality, though? Their grave is laced with diamonds and gold, the best that money can buy. Flowers that grew in the tropics of faraway lands are placed in front of their graves. Objects that chip and fade, flowers that, just as your soldiers, die. 

You go to the funeral but you don’t cry. You visit the grave each day for years to come, saying your prayers without meaning a word of it. You lead so many on. Lead so many to their death. You make so many people want to die for you, that’s why you're dangerous. Perhaps you’d never kill, but this is the next best thing for you.

Still, you continue to be held in the light of someone heroic and brave, the people who believe this do not see the bodies falling at your feet like I do. So maybe. one day, you’ll understand the negative effect you have on this place, perhaps the world needs you, but do the people? do the people need your monstrous face as it lurks in the shadows?

Sincerely,  
Your son, Dick.


	2. Let's talk about grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the death of any child's parents is a pain so unimaginable but I suppose it's how we deal with this death that changes who we become

Bruce.   
I want to talk to you about grief, but I don't think I'm strong enough for a face to face conversation so I'll settle for written form for now. 

I lost my parents, I watched my whole world crumble before my eyes, just as you did. We share that in common, you and I. But the way these deaths effected us changed us both differently. And rightly so. We are not the same people. We deal with grief very differently. While you shut yourself away from the world in a darkened room, I come closer to the people I care for. Perhaps we have different ways to grieve but yours is not healthy, I don’t think it ever was. The death of our parents was a tragedy. But I got a father back and you got a son in the end.

How did my parent’s deaths effect me? It’s something I either know or I don’t. It’s something I either need to think through or know as soon as the question is asked. One thing is for sure though, my parent’s deaths ripped me apart piece by piece, god had no remorse as he did that and I could’ve sworn I heard him laughing. He stole away everything I knew, everything I held dear and chucked me into the lion's den unprotected. And then you came, soothing words that seemed too foreign in your gruff mouth, saving me from the mouths of those lions. 

However, unlike you, my parent’s death did not create who I am, that was you who created me, Bruce. You were the man who picked me up bruised and bloodied, taking the time to heal me. Taking the time to sing me lullabies as nightmares gave me restless sleep. You gave me what I never thought I would have again. You gave me a father and gave me the love I lost on that fateful night. 

In time my wounds were healed but in place, scars were left. Each scar that marked my body still hurt, but I was whole again.

You, however? Your parent's death changed you more than it should’ve. It ripped you apart and here you lie with poorly sewn stitches. You're like a wounded animal, hissing at everyone trying to heal you. He dropped you into the lions den and you’re still there. Us, your sons and daughters came to you but we were not enough to release you from the lion's jaws. We helped you fight through the lions every day as they circled you but you never bothered to find a way out. You fight and you fight until you can fight no more. And even then, you fight. You break your body further each day, knowing your limits and exceeding them more often than not. I think you forget that you are not a god. You are not like the men and women you fight beside. You are human. You bleed and you fall, then you get back up again. You repeat this cycle.

I must applaud you though. Broken child after broken child, you have taken into your care. Knowing fully well that their deaths will tear you even further apart from the person you used to be. A tragic story to say the least. 

You took them in.

You loved them.

You lost them.

The only reason you have not completely fallen apart at the seams is that your children always come back. Something you never got with your parents. I think your parents death turned you into a monster of the night. But for us, your children. We keep you human. We keep you sane.

I just want you to know how important we are to you. And instead of pushing us out, please, unlock the door.

Sincerely,  
Dick


	3. Human or monster? The line seems blurred sometimes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's not sorry. Regretful, but not sorry.

Bruce. 

My words may have been spouted out in anger but it makes what I’ve said no less true. I’ve done unspeakable things, things that I remember more vividly as each day passes, but if I had the chance to go back in time to those moments where I somehow became a 'monster', I wouldn’t change a thing. 

I’d collect the same god damn scars and I’d break myself all over again because not once have I wanted to change my past. What happened to me… what I did. It made me who I am. And who I am or who I was, may have been a killer, a monster, but I am still Jason Todd. Not the son you knew many years ago, but the son who has done you wrong too many times and watched you piece yourself together each time after. 

For that I’m sorry, I too was hurt and broken. Lost and deceived. But I will say again, as I have many times, that I will not change what I have done. Although I may regret it, I would never fix the broken path I used to walk if I could. Every wrong I’ve ever done never strayed me away from the path of righteousness, because who I am is not a hero, however, I still save those who cannot save themselves. 

I am no monster.

I am only human. A human that has been torn apart and stitched back together, but a human nonetheless.

 

Jason.

**Author's Note:**

> If you’re reading this thank you so much!  
> It’s quite short I’m sorry but thank you for reading it, feel free to give any feedback you have!


End file.
